The Wrong Hands
by NoteEmmy
Summary: The thief plans to pay tribute to the Pharaoh's gardens at night, a setup for an eventuality of horror. It's unfortunate that he stumbles upon something he just can't put into words. Thief\Atem\Priest Seto M\M


Tonight, he'd decided, was going to be the first step in true vengeance against the pathetic Pharaoh and all the destruction he'd caused. Finally he'd threatened and killed enough people to get the layout of the palace just exact. He knew what guards were circling at what times and when the right moment would be to slip in. Now wasn't the time for grandeur- especially not on a first visit. There was always the chance that all his piled information could be the slightest bit wrong. That's what first times were necessary. He was planning on just doing some small work tonight.

One hop over the high wall and a roll to the ground he held his breath as he backed against the stones as far as he could go. His heart pounded in his chest as a guard swooped by but seemed not to be disturbed by the noise. Either he was fantastic at what he did or the guards were incompetent. In his case it was probably a little of both. Once the shadow of the man had disappeared around the far corner he made his second move.

Around the opposite corner and through a few hedges, he could feel he was getting closer to his target. Tonight wasn't about true revenge. Really what he was planning on doing could be considered _playful_by the standards he normally set. It was truly such a small thing in the long run. What he really planned to do by the end of his life's journey… this paled so far by comparison. It was just a little fun.

Once he tripped and balked through a thicker bush he knew he'd found the right place. Even in the cold and dark of night, the Pharaoh's precious gardens were lit with the stars and warm with hope. The young thief knew that these had belonged to his mother previously. They were kept in good condition for having to live in such disastrous conditions. Certainly it was hard for them to thrive but he seemed to manage it just fine- well, his servants, he was sure. The Pharaoh probably had little to do with actually taking care of the garden.

It didn't really matter, in the end. Tonight, as much as he could get his hands on, it would all be destroyed. Some of these plants he'd been told were still around from the Queen's reign. Some of them were still living from her hand. It was only as sweet as he could make it at the moment.

His bag was set down from around his shoulder and he plunged his hands into it, finding his way even in the darkness. He was careful of the few small knives he'd brought with him. What he was looking for was the sheep's head he'd brought with him. The most sacred plants that he'd been told about would be bathed in its blood and brains. It would be a beautiful mess. His only regret was that he'd not be around to witness the Pharaoh's cries.

The thief stopped short of the head as he heard someone call out in a grated whisper. He went stock still. Was this it? Had he been careless? Had he gotten caught? His eyes closed as he listened. The sound was still happening. Once, then again a harder time before someone tried to silence the first voice with a quiet hush.

The noises stopped then and the man was somewhat intrigued. Had some servants stepped outside to chat amongst themselves?

His ears practically twitched as he heard a moan after a few more moments of silence. Ah, someone was being naughty. Servants eloping? Some of those older dirtier court members? He couldn't quite say but now he was very interested. He was careful as he moved through the grass and small shrubs. He stopped again as he heard a deeper moan- definitely male.

Finally he crouched behind a hedge, parting the leaves carefully with his hands. He saw a tall figure, most likely the man who had made the noise. He was crouched, body hidden by a long cape he was still wearing around his shoulders. Only people of high society bothered with those things. So it had to be a member of the Pharaoh's court. The man was indeed too tall to be the Pharaoh himself.

He observed a rather rough thrust, causing the second to cry out quietly. This wasn't an ideal vantage point. He couldn't tell who the second person was. Slowly he moved again, just down the way a little before parting the hedge once more.

The sight he saw caught him off guard enough to gape in shock. Beneath the taller man was most definitely the Pharaoh. Spread down across one of the marble benches on his hands and knees. The thief's eyes swept up as the clouds overhead parted so the moon could shine down on the two as if the Gods were actually praising this disgusting, vile act. Then he saw the High Priest Set as the man utterly dominating his Pharaoh.

Even that was a soft term for it. Those rough thrusts, the way the man's hands were digging into the Pharaoh's hips- it felt like he owned the most powerful man in Khemet. And when the thief realized this thought he almost couldn't breathe. In his wildest dreams he'd never thought of doing something so revolting as touching the Pharaoh or claiming him- just making him cry out in agony. But what the Priest was doing seemed _so close_it burned.

Such a haughty and powerful man as the Pharaoh, down on his knees before his lower Priest, baring himself to be taken hard enough to bleed it looked like. And the smaller man was enjoying it. He had to be, by the sounds of those moans.

It was purely and truly sickening.

Yet the thief was having an issue tearing his eyes away from the scene. He couldn't move. Common sense dictated that his plans of ruining the Pharaoh's garden couldn't be completed. That's why he was still. If he moved and tried to finish he'd be caught. Of course. So why not move and leave?

He just couldn't seem to manage. What was so very much worse, he felt the beginnings of dark arousal.

The moment he knew for sure that's what it was he felt sick with himself. But he couldn't help it. The Pharaoh was in such a weak position. So low. So _human_. With fault. And without power.

It was everything the thief knew him to be and everything he wanted to witness. And here he was. It just wasn't at his hands.

There was no way he'd be able to skillfully navigate his way back around the garden, over the walls, and far away from the palace in his new condition. The only thing to do…

"Set- Gods…" The Pharaoh breathed out just as the thief fixated on him. He watched Atem push back against the taller.

Large hands moved around Atem's shoulders, ghosting in a grip past his neck and then over his mouth. The thief could barely contain himself. "Shh." A weak command but a command still. And the Pharaoh actually seemed to be listening.

Before he gave himself more time to think his hand had wrapped around his cock as he watched the two secret lovers. It was painfully shameful but he couldn't think to do much else now. His speed matched theirs as if daring them to challenge him. It was stupid but he at least wouldn't let them do better than him. It was unfortunate as the Priest seemed to get very antsy and started moving faster.

Atem didn't seem like he could take the treatment, hands slipping in favor of going to press his arms and face against the bench, sending himself further against the man behind him. It spurned on a deep moan from the both of them- the thief struggling now to keep quiet. Atem was submitting so easily. One day, one day he'd have the Pharaoh on his knees for him. Not quite like this. He didn't want to be part of this, he didn't want Atem like that. Just bloodied and begging for his life.

…but somehow he couldn't deny the allure of watching him like this.

It became too much all too quick as he continued to fantasize about the day he'd put Atem through hell and back. Release came quicker than he realized, having to muffle a hitch and cry by biting the sleeve of his red coat. His eyes quickly went to the couple again as he caught his breath. They were undisturbed and for only a moment longer did they last before Atem couldn't hold back any longer. Set reached forward again to cover his mouth as he moaned and then too, the thief was sure by the shaky jerk of his hips, released too.

For a quiet moment he basked and it was almost weirdly tempting to watch as the Priest, weakened with their activities, sunk down against the smaller Pharaoh and crushed him accidentally. But before the scene became warm he moved to fix his clothing and pack up. Tonight was not happening the way he'd planned. And as he hopped over the wall again he cast a look back out to the garden. Just one.

One day he'd experience everything he dreamed of. One day Atem would be on his knees for him. One day.


End file.
